


Things Passed On

by Raphiael



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Gen, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raphiael/pseuds/Raphiael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their parents left behind a spear, a sword, and far too many questions. Altena doesn't know any of the answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Passed On

**Author's Note:**

> A bonus gift for 2013's holiday Nagamas exchange, for Garmmy. I went with the Awakening-official localization for names, because in most cases I like them better. Only good things for Leif and Altena.

It was so much easier to approach Leif on the battlefield as an enemy. That, at least, Altena had trained for. Nothing exactly could train her for this.

Something about Leif sitting alone, tending to his sword, was surreal. Altena had expected that she might start to see something familiar about him, that perhaps being around him might dredge up some more of tht long-buried knowledge she'd never known she'd had. She lingers at the threshhold of his room, watching him run a cloth over the blade of his sword.

Had her father – no, had _Travant_ not confirmed it, she's not sure she'd believe it at all.

“Do you have a moment, Prince Leif?”

She regrets the _prince_ immediately. It isn't like she ever called Areone prince, and Leif is more her brother than Areone, isn't he? And that thought is immediately a slap in the face, one she doesn't care to dwell on just yet.

Leif smiles when he sees her and nods. Altena forces herself not to look away, though she's still not sure what it is that smile reminds her of exactly.

“Come sit with me.”

Even when she sits by his side, she's nearly a head taller than him. His ungloved hands seem almost delicate, strangely small next to her own.

“I'm glad you joined us,” he says, almost shyly. “Finn told me I had a sister, but I always thought...”

“He told me he assumed me dead. Is that right?”

Leif's nod at that is less enthusiastic. “Everyone did. I wasn't old enough to remember it, but... I always heard, when my – when _our_ parents left, they took you with them. So, then....” He looks away at her and down to the mud-streaked toes of his white boots, letting the blade rest in his lap. “I feel as if I ought to have known, somehow.”

“That's nonsense. You couldn't know.” _Altena_ should have known, of course. Her words sound like a scolding, the one she means for herself.

She expects Leif to flinch. He doesn't; instead, he pushes the hilt of the sword gently into her hands and lets go.

“This was my-- _our_ \-- mother's. You should have it.”

A fine lot of good this sword did her mother, Altena can't help but think. She's tried not to think the same of the Gae Bolg, but somehow this weapon is even sadder. The delicate gold weave lacing up its blade and the gems set in its grip seem more suited to ceremony than battle, but the color of the cloth Leif's still gripping tells her otherwise.

“I... I can't take this from you.”

Leif shakes his head.“No, no. You're older than me. And... and Finn says you can remember them a little, right? I'm sure she'd want you to have it.” Somehow he's smiling as he says that, and somehow Altena thinks it must be her mother's smile.

She pushes the sword back to him, not even daring to hold it in her hands for a moment. “Don't say that. You can't know that, either.”

He looks back down to the blade, neither picking it up nor pushing it back to her, and doesn't say a word. His silence is thick in the air – Altena can't help but try to break it.

“And I already have something of our parents'. Remember?”

Leif _does_ flinch at that. “Of course,” he mumbles, shrinking away from her.

“I didn't mean it like that – ”

Leif keeps his gaze fixed down at the sword as he carefully sheathes it, treating it more like a treasure than a weapon. “It's all right. I don't remember anything about them, so... it isn't like I can really miss them, is it?”

It seems almost like an accusation, as if he means to say _I can't miss them like you can_. Altena has to force herself not to snap at him, to say _at least you always knew who they were_. She knew her parents in sneers and insults at most, dead strangers divorced from her entirely, not warm stories from someone who'd _known_ them, really.

“You can still miss them, I think. And I don't remember much. I was small, Sir Finn said?”

“Small enough that Mother could still carry you in her arms, he told me. Small enough that you barely reached his knee.” It sounds like a recital, something Leif's heard time and time again. How many times must he have asked for stories of his parents? How many times has he heard them?

“After this is all done, Prince... _Brother_. I could tell you all I remember. And you... could you share your stories with me?”

Leif finally looks at her, really lingering there, not darting his gaze away after a moment, and slowly smiles. “I'd like that,” he says – but then, strangely serious, adds, “Don't die before then.”

If anyone's in danger of dying, it's him: so small, so fragile, armed only with a plain magic sword against the force of the gods themselves. Any of their foes could crush him in a second, easily, without even a thought.

Altena doesn't say that. She's sure he knows.

“I'll stay safe for your sake, then. And you, stay safe for mine.”


End file.
